


The (Un)Finished Kiss

by insomniabug



Series: Smol & Tol drabbles [4]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4833038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniabug/pseuds/insomniabug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where our spies finally kiss</p>
            </blockquote>





	The (Un)Finished Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This short little drabble was inspired by bloomsbury's fan art [here](http://bloomsbury.tumblr.com/post/128794970426/this-fucking-song-made-me-do-this-im-sorry-i)

Five minutes earlier, they were despondently staring down at yet another nuclear bomb, mere moments away from “The Big Sleep.”

Five minutes later and she feels as if it’s her heart that’s about to explode.

Gaby’s shoes, the red ankle tie platforms that Napoleon had picked out for her, dig into Illya. It must be painful, the thick wedges pressing into the backs of his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Just like she doesn’t mind the bruising pressure of his thumbs against her bottom. Nothing seems to hurt her now, even though she knows she should be in great agony. She’s probably got a broken rib and most definitely has some internal bleeding, but all she can think about, all she can focus on, are Illya’s lips finally _(finally)_ kissing hers.

The taste of copper in her mouth should be cause for alarm, but she’s too focused on the scratchy warmth of his neck against her forearms, on the lean sturdiness of his waist between her thighs to care. There was blood leaking from his right ear earlier, and soon, whether he likes or not, Gaby will force him into a hospital. 

But for right now, he’s alive and she’s alive, and she’s not wasting another moment without having had tasted his mouth.

_(His mouth ends up tasting like gunpowder, grief, and something a little like home.)_


End file.
